XIIThe most pitiful thing that I can imagineis to see people well and able to travel aboutin boats cars planes or trains or whatever going toward their graves without grief or gloryin the very same spot they were born inseeing the same old faces every daytaking in the same old sceneryas if they hadn’t a penny to their nameswhen the truth is they’re out there rolling in doughI who have traveled the length and breadth of Chilewithout depending on any source of incomebeyond what I earn by the sweat of my browI ask myself why they don’t go anywhereis there anything more interesting in the world?especially in a country like our ownworld famous for its beautywhy only visit the office of the nitrate companieswhere I used to work when I was youngbefore my poor old mother passed awaygo immerse yourselves in the immensity of the desertand drink in the marvels of its twilightsbelieve me you’re going to thinkit’s a real aurora borealisor go pay a visit to the lakesit’s just a matter of finding a public phoneif you don’t happen to have one in your homeand getting yourself a round-trip reservationI can’t understand why people don’t travelthere must be personal reasonsor reasons connected with the Powers That Beand in that case I’ll have to keep my mouth shut.